


那些年错过的大雨 (the rain we missed of those years)

by raspberet



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:52:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4474844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberet/pseuds/raspberet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yifan's always been practical but Yixing's always made him want to reach for the stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	那些年错过的大雨 (the rain we missed of those years)

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by 那些年, which means i listened to the song about fifty times while writing this. title from the song 那些年.

Yifan knew about the bullying that often happened in his school -- they were from a small town, and most people here didn't entertain the concept of anything that happened outside of town limits to even bother to wrap their head around the idea of a whole big world out there they haven't explored. He knew the school's penchant to kick around anything they didn't like -- he was particularly acquainted with it Zitao's first day at the school, when he'd come to Yifan at lunch with a black eye and bruised knuckles and a triumphant grin on his face.

("Wushu?" Yifan had asked, and Zitao had laughed out loud, collapsing on the bench next to him. Yifan saw the way the bullies were eyeing Zitao with fear and felt pride for his cousin, who had been training in wushu since he was small; there was no way a pack of untrained hooligans could take him down. He hoped Zitao roundhouse-kicked one of them in the face.)

Now the new kid was a skinny pale boy from Changsha, and Yifan had heard the buzzing of rumours since the first period, that the boy was stupid, that he was pretty and clueless and had a dazed expression on his face all the time. Yifan wasn't too interested in the swapping of information, but Zitao certainly was, and even Luhan came to their lunch table and the first thing he spoke was, "I met the new guy."

"You did?" Zitao perks up, obviously relieved that he was no longer the newest one to the school. The bullies had left him alone since the first altercation, not as stupid as they seemed to mess with something with actual martial arts training, but he always liked to keep tabs on what's going on. "How's he like?"

"I think he's really nice," Luhan replies, slapping his tray down on the table and clambering into his seat. "But they were right, though -- he really is clueless. And blank half the time. I had to ask him his name three times before he realised that I was talking to him."

Yifan frowns, because that doesn't sound like the kind of guy that can fend off the bullies like Zitao did, and said boy picks up on his distress. "Are you worried about him, Yifan-ge?" he sings out, sounding almost amused.

"He's going to get eaten alive," Yifan grouses, picking up his spoon and shoving rice in his mouth so that he doesn't have to explain.

Luhan laughs, a bright tinkling sound, and stares at Yifan with a quirk of his lips. "You'll be surprised, I think," he says, and his expression is thoughtful, and Yifan stares back resolutely because a thoughtful Luhan is never a good sign. "Hey, did you hear what they said about him? He's really good at dancing. He's going to join the dance club."

"I heard that he won some competition in Korea," Zitao pitches in.

Luhan giggles. "He speaks Korean so cutely," he adds, mostly because he had spent some years in Seoul and can speak Korean semi-fluently, so he should know. "Such a cute accent."

The buzzing canteen around them abruptly quietens, and Yifan stiffens, straightening up to look around because it's rare that everyone just shuts up at the same time. He sees the object of their attention the moment everyone else does -- the new guy standing at the door, an unsure look on his face as his bag dangles from his shoulder, a lunch tray in his hands. This is the deciding moment -- where the hell is he going to sit?

This is the first time Yifan's seen the new kid, and he privately agrees with the people that say he's pretty, because he kind of is. He's lean and short and pale and has black hair that flops over into his half-lidded eyes, and his lips are red and bitten on. He moves with the grace of a dancer, even as he looks like he stumbles through life perpetually confused and not entirely there. It's a bit adorable. Yifan sort of wants to cuddle him, and he also maybe wants to see how far that blush goes, all the way down his neck and disappearing into the starched collar of his school shirt.

Then of course it's Luhan who breaks the silence by jumping up and shouting, "Zhang Yixing! Over here!"

The new boy turns around, and a gorgeous smile breaks over his face, a prominent dimple appearing on his cheek, eyes lighting up with relief and happiness. Yifan's breath is short as Yixing makes his way over, because he is irrepressibly awkward around beautiful people and Luhan and Zitao don't count because they've been in his life since forever and he knows he's going to fuck up around this Zhang Yixing--

Yixing reaches their table, and he places his tray next to Luhan and his smile is just as breathtaking close-up as it is across the canteen. "Hi," he says softly, and his voice is quiet and sweet and Yifan wants to die, "I'm Yixing."

Luhan grabs him into a one-armed hug that Yifan is sure the entire school is watching. "Sit with us, okay?" he tells the boy. "The frowny one is Yifan and the tall one is Zitao and they won't bite unless you tell them to."

"Luhan," Yifan hisses. Luhan smirks and tosses his head.

Yixing watches their interaction with an amused half-smile on his face. "I'll love to," he says honestly as he takes his seat, hunching his shoulders now that he sees all the faces turned towards him and observing. "I was wondering where I was going to sit."

"There's no need!" Luhan says happily, and Yifan's never been so glad for his sheer shamelessness. "You have us now. You're ours."

Yifan reaches across the table to smack him and Zitao lets out a suppressed laugh, muffled behind his hand, and Yixing's eyes are sparkling and maybe this thing isn't going to be so bad after all.

\--

The first thing they all learn is that Yixing tends to be spacey.

"Huh?" he would say when someone asks him a direct question, or when the conversation lapses in expectation of his contribution, and eventually all three of them just learn to carry on with it, or laugh at him until he blushes and looks down at his sneakered feet. Yixing is the kind to walk into glass panels or open doors, and he's nearly smashed his own face in with his locker door before he forgot he swung it open just when he was turning to talk to Zitao. Luhan had nearly rolled on the floor laughing at that, and Yifan was the one who had to pull Yixing out of harm's way and check up on his welfare.

(He won't forget that -- Yixing in his arms, pressed up against him, eyes wide and lips bloodless in surprise. "Oh my god," Luhan is howling, and even Zitao has fallen prey to his snickers, but Yifan gathers up the shreds of his courage and runs a hand through Yixing's dark hair, gently tilting Yixing's head back to look him straight in the eye.

"Are you okay?"

Yixing's smile glows. "I am, because of you. Thank you." He's so sincere that Yifan's heart nearly stops, a warm feeling suffusing his entire chest at the genuine tone in Yixing's voice. He learns then that Zhang Yixing never does anything without putting his entire self into it, and meaning every word.)

But being spacey means that he isn't Zitao, who looks like a gangster with his piercings and his metal-studded clothing, with a long background in wushu which qualifies him to kick any ass that he deems necessary. Yixing is short and slim, and he's fast and lean because of his dancing, but he's also absent-minded and forgets which hallway he's ended up in and what classroom he's supposed to be at. The bullies thirst for blood after Zitao had so cannily escaped their clutches, and it looks like Yixing is the next victim.

Luhan had said, "You'll be surprised." Yifan doesn't really think he will be.

\--

Yifan walks down the hallway, engrossed in looking over his chemistry test. He makes mental notes of the places where he'd lost marks, but nothing was too bad -- he'd still gotten his A, Luhan would have gotten a B, and the world would be as right as it could be.

He hears someone smash into the lockers, and he looks up on instinct. Being Yixing's friend had ingrained him to that specific kind of noise.

And- it's Yixing, but he hadn't accidentally walked into the lockers again, or slammed his locker door too hard. This time it's Yixing with his back to the lockers, facing a loose ring of well-muscled jocks that Yifan recognises from the rugby team, and Yifan's blood burns hot in his veins when he sees the tiniest trace of nervousness and fear cross Yixing's confused face. This has to be the first time.

This has to be the last time.

The jocks are mocking him, someone was reaching out to pull his bag away from him but Yixing is clinging on, someone else kicks at his legs and Yixing loses his balance-- and Yifan forgets about anything but the anger burning in his chest and the protectiveness that swells up in his throat. He strides forward and pushes his way through them without a second thought, turning around to face them only when he's sure Yixing is tucked away safely behind him.

"Wu Yifan," one of the boys says, and he's from the basketball team, one of the benchwarmers. Yifan narrows his eyes at him. "This isn't your business, get out before it becomes yours."

"Why the fuck are you hurting him?" Yifan finds himself saying instead. "He's done nothing but walk into doors a few times. Did he forget to reply to you in conversations? He does that. It's not personal." There is a hushed silence when he pauses. "What," Yifan says, his tone turning ugly, "is his crime being new? What a fucking crime that is."

"Yifan, Yixing!" someone else shouts from the end of the hallway, and everyone turns to see Luhan, bouncing up and down on the heels of his sneakers, with Zitao beside him and Kim Minseok, a Korean transfer and vice-captain of the football team. Luhan's smile is blood-thirsty and far too eager as he starts forward. "Need some help?"

The boys scarper off at the sight of him, knowing when to cut their losses. Facing the basketball team captain, the football team captain and vice-captain, and the school's wushu prodigy was probably more than they had planned for the day.

Yifan turns around and offers a hand to Yixing, who takes it gratefully and heaves himself up. "Thanks, ge," Yixing says, and his smile still makes Yifan's heart flutter like a teenage schoolgirl.

Luhan reaches them then, Zitao and Minseok trailing behind him, and he immediately launches himself at Yixing. "You need to be more careful!" he scolds, brushing the dust off Yixing's trousers. "What if we hadn't been near? They could take you anywhere and beat you up! You have to pay more attention in the hallways, okay?" Then he locks Yixing into a tight hug.

Minseok carefully wrestles Yixing from Luhan's grip once Yixing goes pale and starts gasping for air. "Luhan," he says simply, and Luhan instantly steps back. "I'm glad you're okay," Minseok tells Yixing in his hesitant Chinese, and he pats Yixing on the shoulder. "Be careful."

"Ge!" It's Zitao now, fluttering around Yixing like he doesn't know what to do. "I'm walking you to your locker after class now, okay? Text me when you're done--"

"That's really not necessary," Yixing says gently, stepping backwards away from Zitao's flailing. "I'll be fine. I'll pay more attention next time."

"Ge," Zitao whines, face falling. "You're making them more eager to get you, you know that. You need someone with you."

"I'll run, okay?" Yixing says. "I run really fast. I don't think they can catch me."

Yifan privately agrees. (He's seen Yixing run, and even though he'd already joined the dance club he was taking on the track team as a second commitment, and Yifan stays back late on Tuesdays to sit in the bleachers and watch Yixing run the track, his earphones tucked into his ears, limbs moving breezily. They walk home together after that.)

The bell rings, and Luhan and Minseok make faces, telling them that they have history class across the school campus and they have to get going. Zitao leaves only after Yixing promises him multiple times that he'll be fine.

Finally, left alone together, Yixing turns to Yifan and smiles mysteriously. "What about you?" he asks. "What do you want to say?"

"I won't let them hurt you," Yifan says.

Yixing's mouth drops open slightly in shock, but when he regains himself his eyes are startlingly bright and his smile is twice as sweet. "Good answer," he replies.

\--

Minseok joins them during lunchtime now, after Luhan had begged and insisted, and suddenly the Korean boy slides into their lives like he's always been a part of it. He brings along this short, fiery-tempered and sharp-mouthed boy called Kim Jongdae, his best friend, and even though Yifan was wary at first Yixing immediately clicks with Jongdae.

Now Jongdae can come to the table, see Yixing with his face cushioned by his forearms on the table surface, and slide a wrapped sandwich over to him. "Yixing-hyung," he'll call quietly, and Yixing would look up, blinking his sleepiness away, smile carefully and take the sandwich with a quiet 'thanks'.

Yifan isn't jealous. He's not, even when an intense heat burns in the pit of his stomach when he sees Yixing's sleepy smile directed at Jongdae, or his soft words curved with that edge of fondness. He sees the way Jongdae is less intimidating, less sharp around Yixing, and Yixing has another boy to take care of him in the hallways, to snap back at the bullies and push them off through sheer force of will. Jongdae fits Yixing in this weird, odd way, and Yifan wouldn't get in the middle of that -- not when Yixing was smiling happier and easier nowadays.

Jealousy wasn't worth taking that away.

But Yifan and Jongdae aren't close, despite sitting at the same table at lunch times, which makes it all the more surprising when Jongdae suddenly calls Yifan up and asks to meet at the old playground in the middle of town. It's not far from Yifan's house, and he's not sure where Jongdae lives, but Yifan agrees anyway, figuring that Jongdae had asked everyone and they'll all go out for ice-cream or something.

The second surprise comes when he nears the playground, hands tucked into the warm pockets of his fleece coat, only to see Jongdae alone on a swing, kicking his heels against the sand. The Korean boy looks up and smiles to see Yifan. "Sit down, hyung," he says, waving a hand to the empty swing next to him, and Yifan is surprised enough that he obeys without thinking.

They sit in silence for a while, only the rhythmic clanking of the swings permeding the air. Yifan waits. He's good at that, waiting.

Jongdae finally opens his mouth and says, "You're in love with Yixing-hyung."

The first step towards acceptance is saying it out loud, Yifan thinks blurrily, and maybe he's denying it or maybe he's not; he can't tell through the rush of emotion in his head, the low ache that starts up in his chest in the vicinity of his heart. He swallows, clears his throat, and stares up at the overcast sky.

Jongdae's smile is knowing, curving up at the corners of his lips. "It's obvious, you know. You shouldn't worry about me. I love him, but I'm not in love with him. That's you."

Yifan remains silent. His heart is hammering against his chest, a jackrabbit pace. He doesn't think he can speak.

Jongdae smiles up at the sky and eventually hops off the swing, brushing sand off his jeans. "I figured I'll have to tell you," he says. "So you'll stop glaring at me during lunch. I did my job." He starts walking away, and Yifan watches him go, a slow plodding gait, but he suddenly turns on his heel and glances back.

There is something unreadable in his eyes. Yifan sometimes forgets how perceptive Jongdae can be.

"You know," Jongdae says, "you should tell him."

And Jongdae continues on, and Yifan is left in an empty playground on a creaking swing, grey clouds drifting by him, his heart too heavy in his chest.

\--

Yixing is sweaty and smiling after his track practice, and Yifan waits patiently for him as he stuffs his damp towel and water bottle into his bag. "You shouldn't have waited today, ge," Yixing tells him as they start walking for the school gate. "It looks dark. It's going to rain."

Yifan glances up. He hasn't noticed, but the sky does look forboding. "Did you bring an umbrella?" he asks.

Yixing laughs. "No."

That's the thing about walking with Yixing, that is so much different from walking with Zitao or Luhan -- he doesn't mind if Yifan doesn't talk, if Yifan takes all sorts of winding routes that would add ten minutes to their journey, if Yifan talks about the sky and the stars and the galaxy that he's going to reach, one day. "You want to be an astronaut?" Yixing had asked the first time, and Yifan had nodded, and Yixing smiled and said, "I think you'll look good in a space suit."

That had been that, the secret that Yifan's been hiding from his parents who want him to go into medicine and be a doctor, and Yixing had just shrugged and accepted it like it was nothing ground-breaking, earth-shattering. Yixing is the kind of person that makes Yifan think that he can reach the stars.

The first raindrops fall when they're five streets from Yixing's house, and Yifan lives even further down. Yixing looks up at the sky and considers it for a moment, and Yifan loses his breath at the sight of Yixing and his faraway eyes, the shadow of his eyelashes cast over his pale face, the elegant line of his neck. Then a raindrop falls straight onto Yixing's cheek, and he bursts out laughing, wiping it off. "Should we run?" he asks, and there's a giddy happiness in his voice that makes Yifan nod.

The rain gets heavier, and Yixing almost slips once, but Yifan just catches his hand and pulls him closer so that if he falls, Yifan falls too. He thinks that it's a metaphor for something he can't quite wrap his mind around. He doesn't mind.

They skid around the last corner and hurtle on, and Yixing's laughter is sharp and bright in the static noise of the rain, and somehow Yifan is laughing too, with him, as their clothes get drenched and their shoes squeak with the rainwater.

Yixing pulls Yifan that last metre as they get to the doorstep of Yixing's house, and suddenly Yixing is tripping forward and Yifan is tugging him back. In the chaos of flailing limbs and slippery ground, Yixing ends up sprawled across Yifan, breathless giggles still escaping his mouth, clinging onto Yifan by the end of his wet school tie.

Yifan can only stare up at him, wanting so desperately that it's a physical pain in his heart, a lump in his throat, an expanding pressure on his chest that just gets greater and greater as Yixing smiles at him unknowingly.

"Hello," Yixing whispers, and he ducks his head, and kisses Yifan.

His lips taste of rainwater and that sticky lip-balm that Luhan keeps loaning him. Yifan hauls him closer, and kisses him back.

\--

Luhan laughs at them the most, but it's Jongdae that looks at their entwined hands with a knowing smirk on his face. Zitao goes high-pitched and flaily at their 'cuteness', and Minseok just claps Yifan on the back and wishes them the best.

Yixing is a comforting weight next to Yifan during lunch times now, usually curled into his side and asleep on his shoulder. Yifan learns that Yixing doesn't think much of eating when he can be sleeping, and that he likes to snack during classes. Despite that, he still pokes his boyfriend awake to have a proper meal.

Yixing smiles at him with half-lidded eyes and that accursed dimple deepening as Yifan loses control and kisses him at sporadic times during the day. Yifan learns to love boyfriend privileges and PDA.

Yifan knows better than to think it's love. They're young, and he's heard enough stories of failed high school romances to wish for too much for him and Yixing. He doesn't put a name to it because he doesn't know how. It's waiting for Yixing after his track practices, or watching him dance at the dance showcases. It's Yixing running out on the court after their successful season, and letting Yifan sweep him up and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It's studying together too late at night and calling each other and talking till dawn.

It's growing up, suddenly, and realising that they have to take the final exams and go to different schools.

"Where do you see yourself when you grow up?" Yixing asks. He's flat on his back on the grassy field of the school, watching the dark sky and the few stars that twinkle past the cloud cover. His fingers are entangled with Yifan's.

Yifan thinks about it. He wants to answer 'with you', but he's far too practical for that. The thought makes his heart hurt. He squeezes Yixing's hand for reassurance. "... maybe I'll finally reach the galaxy," he says at long last.

When he turns, Yixing is smiling at him stupidly. "I love you," he says.

Yifan is practical, too practical, but his heart is shouting out and he thinks that if he doesn't say something, he'll burst. He pulls Yixing closer, curls into that inviting warmth, and kisses Yixing's cheek. "I love you too," he murmurs into that soft skin, and Yixing laughs brightly.

They stay there in the dewy field until Minseok stumbles out and yells at them to get back to the dance.

\--

Yixing looks ridiculous in the graduation robes, because they're too big for him and he's practically swamped under them, but Yifan thinks he looks worse, because they're too small for his height.

The hat fits perfectly fine, though. Yixing steals his from his head and tosses it up with the rest, even as Yifan swears that he'll never partake in that tradition. "Live a little," Yixing says as he kisses his protests away, and Luhan rolls his eyes and mouths 'whipped' from the corner of his eye.

Yifan doesn't care though. What he does care about is Yixing and standing with his friends after the graduation ceremony had ended, hugging all of them and not-crying, even as Zitao offers him a tissue and Jongdae laughs and smacks him in the shoulder.

What he doesn't care about is Yixing going to a different university, halfway across the country, because he wants to be a musician and music schools tend to be very far away from other kinds of schools.

Which is why Yifan finds himself standing at the train station far too soon, Yixing next to him clutching his train ticket in hand. "Have you gotten everything?" he asks, and Yixing nods mutely, and Yifan knows that he was up till twelve the night before packing everything and checking things off a list because he would forget something if he didn't. His family had said goodbye to him at the house. Yifan had the privilege of taking him to the train station.

"I love you," Yifan says, when the silence stretches on and he thinks he's going to cry. It's only a few years, he tells himself. They'll figure something out after university, visit each other, hopefully even work in the same city. They'll still call each other and spend too much time on their laptops with a video call, talking to the depths of the night despite early lectures the next day.

They'll still be in contact, but it's not the same, because Yifan can't hold Yixing and kiss him and hug him and make sure that he's eating all right, that he's even remembering to eat at all.

Yixing is crying. His face is blotchy and his eyes are wet as he leans up to kiss Yifan. "I love you too," he murmurs back, and Yifan still tastes the stupid lip-balm that Luhan had ended up giving Yixing at graduation.

Yifan thinks about saying 'I'll wait for you' or 'I'll wait forever for you', but he's practical. He's always been so practical.

Yixing presses desperate fingers into his face, like he can't bear to let go. His breathing is short and stilted and his eyes are closed and Yifan's always loved the shadow of his eyelashes over his cheeks.

Yifan says, "I love you," again, and because fuck practicality, because Yixing's been the best thing in his life for a while now, he says, "I think I'll always love you."

That is their goodbye: Yixing leaving on a train, waving back to him frantically, and Yifan pretending that the wetness on his face isn't tears.

If they remain together, that's up to fate, Yifan thinks. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks back to the bus stop, his 'goodbye' still on the edge of his tongue. He never did say it. He didn't believe in goodbyes.

He believes in Yixing, in that absent-minded, light-hearted boy that has his own dreams and his own ambitions, and somehow he'd stumbled into Yifan's life and never quite left. If Yifan had anything to say about it, he wasn't ever going to leave.

"Goodbye," Yifan mouths instead, alone at the bus stop. The word feels foreign in his mouth, tinged with bitterness.

It starts to rain.


End file.
